


sad cat

by wearing_tearing



Series: reality warping [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Cats, M/M, Minor Luke Cage/Claire Temple, Modern Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 16:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearing_tearing/pseuds/wearing_tearing
Summary: “Uh, hi? I’m here to volunteer at the Cat Loft?”Bucky almost brains himself when he pushes the back door open and hurries to the reception area, tripping over the new box of dog treats he hasn’t had the time to put away yet.“Hi,” Bucky breathes out, face flushing in embarrassment when Steve just blinks at him, confused.





	sad cat

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to [portraitofemmy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/portraitofemmy/pseuds/portraitofemmy) for reading this over <3

Bucky doesn’t notice him at first.

“Did you guys have fun?” Bucky looks up at Jubilee from where he’s leaning down on the floor, hands busy scratching behind Dot’s ears.

“We did.” Jubilee smiles, handing Bucky the looped end of the leash and bending down so she can press a kiss to the top of Dot’s head. “He was a really good boy today.”

Dot barks, pink tongue sticking out and tail wagging in excitement. Bucky grins at him and stands up, making sure to wrap the leash around his hand in case Dot gets any ideas about going back outside.

“Thanks for doing this.”

“I like volunteering,” Jubilee answers with a bright smile. “Do you still need help next week?”

“We always need help.”

And it’s true. Bucky loves working at the animal shelter, but he has to admit that they always need extra hands. There is way too much to do and too many animals to take care of, and having people volunteer some of their time every week is a blessing. Especially when those people are as reliable as Jubilee.

“I’ll come around same time next week, then?”

Bucky nods. “See you then.”

“See you,” Jubilee says, and then leans down to give Dot one more pat on the head. “You too, buddy.”

“Want me to take him?” Claire asks, coming up behind Bucky and extending a hand for the leash. She tilts her chin in the direction of the door, lips curling up at the corners. “You have work to do.”

Bucky frowns and turns around, freezing in place when he catches sight of the man lurking near the front entrance. The guy is _big_ , his grey shirt stretched tightly across his chest and shoulders, bringing attention to his chiseled chest and muscled arms. The dark blue jeans he’s wearing also don’t help, the fabric wrapped around strong thighs and clinging to all the right places.

Bucky can’t believe he didn’t notice him come in. Now that his attention is focused on the guy, there is _something_ about him that makes it impossible for Bucky to look away. He barely even registers Claire taking Dot’s leash from him and leading the dog past the reception area and out back to the cages.

Bucky can’t help but feel like he _knows_ this person, even though his brain can’t come up with any memories of when they’ve met. As is, it is the guy’s clean-shaven face and blue eyes that catch Bucky’s attention the most, with the lingering sadness behind the dark circles around his eyes and the nervousness present in the tight line of his mouth.

That is what propels Bucky forward, a small smile on his lips as he says, “Welcome to Pawesome, how can I help you?”

“Uh,” the guy blinks, throat working as he swallows. He steps forward, walking up to Bucky. “Hi.”

“Hi, I’m Bucky Barnes. Is there anything I can help you with?” Bucky’s smile widens a bit, but is still just as soft.

Bucky feels small with them standing closer to each other, extremely aware of the differences between them. Even though they’re almost the same height, Bucky is lean where this guy is all strength and muscle and broad shoulders for all to see.

“I was, uh, wondering about volunteering?” the guy asks, fidgeting a little in place, his hands buried in his pockets.

“As a dog walker?” Bucky asks, already reaching for the relevant forms. It is what most people come to Pawesome for: a chance of spending quality time with the dogs when they don’t have time or space to have a pet of their own.

“Uh, no?” the guy hesitates, shoulders tense. “My schedule is not very… I wouldn’t be the most reliable person for that job.”

Bucky blinks in surprise, but appreciates the honesty. “Okay. Cat Loft, then? Volunteer hours are 5PM on the dot, from Tuesday to Saturday. The time commitment is totally up to you, but we need people who are willing to help with brushing, petting, and socializing the kittens.”

The guy nods slowly, but still looks a little concerned. “I’m, uh, I’m not sure if I’ll always be available at those times.”

“That’s okay.” Bucky waves him off, offering him a kind smile. “This can be a one-time thing if you find out it’s not for you. And like I said, the time commitment is up to you. You can volunteer once a week, twice, or every two weeks. Whatever is better for you. We’d just need you to give us a heads up if you can’t come in during one of your days.”

“I never had a cat before,” the guy blurts out, and then promptly looks ashamed of himself.

Bucky can’t help but laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners, enjoying the way a flush spreads over the guy’s cheeks. “That’s okay too. We’ll have someone with you during your first day to explain what you have to do. We won’t just throw you to the wolves,” he says, and corrects himself with a grin, “or to the cats, anyway.”

The guy lets out a low chuckle, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry, it’s just… this is a new thing for me. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“I have a feeling you won’t,” Bucky replies, more honest than he meant to be. It makes the guy look up at him, eyes intense and considering. It roots Bucky in place, that look, and he clears his throat, hands searching for the volunteer forms, as a flush rises to his cheeks. “So, I’ll just need a photo ID and for you to fill out this form.”

The guy busies himself writing down his information, and Bucky takes the chance to observe him once more. The feeling that they’ve met before still nags at Bucky, but for the life of him he can’t figure out where from.

Bucky gets his answer when the guy hands him back the papers, fishing his wallet from his pocket and giving Bucky his ID. There, in black block letters, right beside a picture of the man next to it, is the name _Steven Grant Rogers_.

Bucky has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from reacting, a zing of surprise coursing through his body. He can see the guy — _Steve_ — tense a little as he waits for Bucky to do his thing, as if expecting Bucky to turn into a blubbering mess at the sight of _Captain America_ standing in front of him.

Which, fair. Bucky’s sure a lot of people have done that before, since the whole ‘coming back from the dead thing after being frozen for 70 years’ is kind of a big deal. It makes sense that Steve would expect that from him.

That’s not the kind of person Bucky is, though.

So he keeps his mouth shut and just nods at Steve, flashing him a quick smile. “Let me check your info and then you’re good to go.”

Steve blinks at him, just once, before his shoulders relax, almost as if his strings have been cut. “Okay,” he says, voice soft and tentative, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

Five minutes later and _Captain America_ is officially a volunteer at Pawsome, something Bucky is trying his best not to freak out about. He also tries not to assume too much about the reason the Steve’s decided to come here, but he can’t help but take in the sad shift of Steve’s eyes and the slumps of his shoulders.

Whatever peace Steve is looking for, Bucky hopes he finds it here.

And only partly because Bucky is attracted to him.

Really.

Bucky promises.

“Do you know when you want to start?” Bucky asks him, ignoring the little voice in his head that screams _‘right now, please_!’

“Is tomorrow okay?”

“It sure is. Just stop by whenever after 5PM. One of us will explain what needs to be done and how to do it and take you to the Loft.”

“Sounds good.” Steve nods, letting out a slow breath. “Well, thanks. And I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Looking forward to it,” Bucky replies with a smile, and ignores the butterflies in his stomach as he watches Steve go.

 

**

 

“Please let me stay with the cats tomorrow,” Bucky blurts out as soon as he steps foot into the Cat Loft, reaching down a hand to pet Broccoli, a Russian blue kitten, as he rubs up against Bucky’s legs.

“Does this have something to do with our new volunteer?” Luke asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No,” Bucky lies, blood rushing to his cheeks.

Okay, so it totally has something to do with that. Bucky wants to give Steve the best experience when it comes to volunteering, specially when it looks like he needs it so much.

“Right,” Luke drawls, grinning at him. He scoops up Broccoli, holding him gently against his massive chest. “Then you won’t be upset if I say no.”

“ _Cage_.”

“Barnes.” Luke smiles, scratching behind Broccoli’s ears. He’s having way too much fun with this.

“You’ll get to spend the day with Claire,” Bucky reminds him.

Luke narrows his eyes at him, but then sighs. “Okay. As long as you take care of the cats.”

“Cross my heart,” Bucky promises, and then rests a hand on Luke’s arm. “I owe you.”

“You do,” Luke agrees. “And you can start paying it by helping me clean out the litter boxes.”

“Alright,” Bucky swallows, because he knows he brought this upon himself. “Let’s do this.”

 

**

 

“Uh, hi? I’m here to volunteer at the Cat Loft?”

Bucky almost brains himself when he pushes the back door open and hurries to the reception area, tripping over the new box of dog treats he hasn’t had the time to put away yet. He’s saved by bracing one hand on the counter, the other coming around the back of Frank’s shirt and holding on.

“Hi,” Bucky breathes out, face flushing in embarrassment when Steve just blinks at him, confused.

“Kid,” Frank grumbles, staring pointedly down at Bucky’s arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bucky rushes, letting go and straightening up. He can feel the blood hot on his cheeks, a little bit of sweat gathering at his temples.

Bucky is _not_ off to a good start.

“Hey. Bucky, right?” Steve asks, eyes crinkling at the corners as he offers Bucky a small smile.

The sadness is still there, behind blue eyes that regard Bucky with amusement. The dark circles under Steve’s eyes aren’t as pronounced this time, but his shoulders are still a tense line, like he’s bracing himself for something.

“Yup, that’s me.” Bucky nods, making a mental note to be calm and collected. He’s a professional. He can do this without embarrassing himself. “Did Frank explain who you’ll be shadowing today?”

“I didn’t have time,” Frank answers, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

Bucky dies a little bit inside, but manages to sound steady when he says, “Well, it’s me. So this all works out.”

Frank shakes his head at him, smiling a little. “It sure does. I’ll be with the dogs if you need me.”

“So,” Bucky clears his throat, turning to Steve, “are you ready to start?”

“I am,” Steve says, spine straight and chin tilted up. He looks like a man on a mission, instead of just someone who’s about to spend hours playing with kittens.

“Follow me, then,” Bucky says, leading Steve to the Cat Loft. “We can take it easy today, since it’s your first time volunteering. The cats have already been brushed, so we get to do the fun part.”

Bucky doesn’t mention he’s the one who did the brushing, as a favor to Luke, with another shelter employer this morning.

That stays between him and the cats.

“You mean tiring them out?” Steve asks, trailing behind Bucky.

“Exactly.” Bucky grins. “It’s important for them to burn off their energy and play with other cats, so all you really have to do is pet and play with them.”

“I can do that,” Steve says softly, giving Bucky a nervous smile.

“I have absolute faith in you,” Bucky replies, getting a snort from Steve. “Really, though, as long as you’re good with cats climbing all over you, you’ll be okay.”

“That sounds like the opposite of a problem.”

“I think you’ll fit right in, Steve.” Bucky stops at the door to the Loft. “You ready?”

Steve takes a deep breath and nods once, shoulders regaining a little bit of the tension from before. “Ready.”

As Bucky leads Steve inside, he never thinks to ask himself the same question.

 

**

 

Bucky isn’t ready for this.

He isn’t ready for the sight Steve Rogers, their very own Captain America, makes while he plays with the cats. He isn’t ready for the sadness to recede from Steve’s face, giving room to happiness and joy. He isn’t ready for the way said happiness absolutely transforms Steve, making him look years younger, a small smile playing on his lips.

Bucky is so 100% totally not _ready_.

He’s pretty sure his heart stops in his chest only to trip all over itself and start up again, sending a flush of warmth to his body, as he watches Steve play with the kittens.

Steve is sitting on the floor, waving a cat wand around while Furiosa, one of their calico kittens, chases it and tries to grab it. Another one of their kittens, Finn, tries his best to climb over Steve’s back, tiny claws stretching the fabric of Steve’s shirt. Steve winces whenever Finn moves, but he doesn’t try to dislodge the cat from his side. He just sits there, entertaining Furiosa and letting Finn use him like a very muscle-y jungle gym, looking about as happy as Bucky’s ever seen him.

Bucky clenches his fists, nails digging into his palm, and does his best not to coo.

He succeeds for the most part, because the sound that comes out of his mouth definitely does not resemble a coo. It sounds more like he choked on a hairball, to be honest. Either way, it is enough to make Steve look up at him, his bright smile slipping a little as his cheeks flush.

“Sorry,” Steve says, although Bucky has no idea what he’s apologizing for. “Do you need me to do something?”

 _I need you to kiss me_ , Bucky thinks, but wisely keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he shakes his head, letting a smile of his own grace his lips. “No, you’re good,” he answers, and then changes his mind. “Actually, one thing could be better.”

Steve’s smile slips off completely this time, face taking on a tense and guilt look. Bucky only has a second to mentally kick himself before Steve speaks, shoulders slumped, “Did I mess up?”

“No, not at all,” Bucky rushes, padding over to Steve. He grabs two cats on the way, one in each hand, and unceremoniously dumps them on Steve’s lap. “There. I just thought you could use a few more cats.”

Steve gapes at up at him, and then lets out a soft little laugh. “Yeah, I guess so,” he says, smiling shyly up at Bucky. He soon gets distracted when Finn finally reaches his shoulder, perching proudly on top of it. “Oh,” Steve breathes out, letting out a soft little laugh that makes Bucky’s heart trip in his chest. “Hi, buddy.”

Finn meows and puts his paw up against Steve’s cheek, as if asking him to stop. Steve grins again and leans into it a little, before pulling back and focusing on the other kittens.

Bucky leaves him to it, but finds himself watching Steve whenever he can. There is still a bit of sadness behind Steve’s eyes, but his shoulders are loose and his smile brightens up the room. He pets and plays with the kittens, hands big and gentle as he scratches between ears and pulls at yarn strings. It seems like something has come loose inside of him, like Steve can finally let himself relax and enjoy the things that surround him.

As Finn climbs atop Steve’s head and starts kneading at his hair, Steve finally looks at peace.

 

**

 

It becomes a regular occurrence. At least once a week Bucky finds himself bribing Luke so he can spend time at the Cat Loft, ready to lead Steve to the kittens whenever Steve shows up to volunteer.

Steve always greets him with a reserved smile, hands deep in his pockets and cap low on his head. Bucky notices that the dark circles under his eyes are fading, along with the tense way Steve holds himself whenever they speak, shoulders dropping a bit as Bucky gives him a smile and tells him the kittens missed him.

“I missed them too,” Steve admits with a shy look in his eyes, cheeks tinging pink. “They’re good company.”

“They are.” Bucky agrees with a nod, sneaking a glance at Steve over his shoulder as they walk further into the shelter. “Better than people, most times.”

Steve snorts, head ducked as he tries to hide his amusement. “Maybe try all of the time.”

Bucky grins, turning on his feet so his back is to the loft door. “You got me there, pal. There’s a reason I work with animals, after all.”

Steve smiles again and shakes his head, the tight lines around his eyes and mouth softening. Bucky motions Steve inside and tries not to get caught staring when Steve bends down to say hi to the cats. There’s just something incredibly charming about a mountain of a man cooing at Broccoli while the kitten tries to make him shut up by placing one of his paws over Steve’s mouth.

“Want to help me brush them today?” Bucky asks, already gathering the necessary supplies.

Steve gives him an eager nod, attention focused on Bucky while Bucky explains what he needs to do. Bucky feels a little hot under his uniform at having Steve’s unwavering focus on him, but he manages to get through all the important bits without stuttering or making a fool of himself.

“I don’t think I’ve said this before, but thank you for volunteering,” Bucky says, busying brushing a comb through Furiosa’s fur. “It helps us a lot. Plus, the cats like you.”

Steve gives him one of his heartbreakingly soft smiles again, big hands gently holding one the kittens, Felix, for his brushing. “It helps me, too,” he says quietly, almost like he doesn’t want Bucky to hear him. “It’s peaceful doing this. It kinda helps me ground myself and I need that sometimes.”

Bucky nods slowly. He can’t imagine what life is like for Steve right now, after everything he’s seen and done and been through. It’s no wonder he needs something to keep him in the moment, present, and not a million miles away thinking about all the time he’s lost. So he’s careful to keep his voice steady when he says, “I’m glad you get something good out of it too.”

“Thanks,” Steve replies, kissing Felix between his ears before he lets him loose in the loft again. “What made you decide to work here?”

“Well,” Bucky drawls, lips twitching up in a faint smirk, “like you’ve said before, animals are obviously better than people.”

“But of course.” Steve rolls his eyes, carefully picking up another kitten so he can continue his work.

“Really, though, I love animals,” Bucky keeps going. “I grew up in Indiana and we had lots of dogs and cats around, a few birds too. When it came time to decide what I had to do after finishing up high school, there was nothing I wanted to do more.”

“It must be nice,” Steve starts, a bit of longing bleeding into his tone, “to be able to follow your dreams like that.”

Bucky’s heart squeezes in his chest. He knows he’s lucky to be able to do what he loves, as not everyone gets a choice. “It is, most of the time,” he says, and then scrunches up his nose in disgust, “you know, when I don’t have to clean up monster poops or have to stop someone from eating their own vomit.”

That gets a startled laugh out of Steve, short and sweet, which seems to surprise both of them. Steve looks unguarded for a second, blue eyes bright and clear, without the weight of whatever he carries around with him every day.

Bucky desperately wants to make him laugh again.

Finn picks that exact moment to trot up to Steve, tiny little kitten claws finding purchase on Steve’s pant leg. He climbs up Steve’s leg, perching himself on Steve’s knee, tail swishing and big eyes aimed in his direction. It’s like he’s waiting for his turn to be brushed while telling Steve it’s been too long already.

Steve’s lingering smile turns into a full grin and he lifts one of his hands so he can scratch under Finn’s chin. Finn purrs, surprisingly loud for such a small kitty, obviously enjoying the attention.

“Someone has a favorite,” Bucky teases. He kind of wishes he could take a picture of this moment, but he settles for committing it to memory.

“He’s alright,” Steve replies.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Who said I was talking to you?”

Steve lets out a laugh again, quiet and breathless, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “So I’m your favorite, huh?” Steve asks Finn, hands swiping over his head. “If you give me a minute, I can get right to brushing you and making you handsome.” Finn bats at Steve’s wrist and meows, which in turn makes Steve nod and fight back a smile. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You’re always handsome.”

Bucky has to bite down on the inside of his cheek not to coo, his stomach flipping at how adorable this entire situation is. He has no idea how he’s going to deal with Steve and kittens without dying from the cute — not if things continue like they are. He figures he could always stop asking Luke to stay at the Loft, but he doesn’t want to give up on moments like this, when Steve is happy and relaxed.

Bucky wants to witness it all.

 

**

 

Of course, as soon as Steve completes two months of volunteer training, he misses an afternoon.

Bucky keeps glancing at the clock, anxiety crawling through him as the minutes tick by and there’s no sign of Steve. He’s not an idiot, he knows Steve’s job is more than a handful and doesn’t exactly give him regular hours, but that only adds to Bucky’s worry. They’ve made good progress with the cats, and Steve’s been looking more and more relaxed whenever he leaves the Loft. Because of that, Bucky is certain Steve wouldn’t just disappear. He knows that whatever has kept Steve away, it’s probably bad.

Finn meows reproachfully when Bucky tries to pick him up, ducking away and then glancing pointedly at the door.

“I don’t think he’s coming, buddy,” Bucky murmurs, ignoring the way that makes his stomach churn. “I think the world needs his help.”

Finn meows again, as if trying to tell Bucky that they need his help and that should take precedence.

Bucky sits down on the floor, smiling without feeling when Felix struts up to him and starts kneading his leg. “We’ll just have to do without him today.”

At that, Finn hisses and then dashes away.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Me too.”

 

**

 

Another week goes by and there’s still no sign of Steve.

Finn only tries to swipe at Bucky once when Bucky picks him up for a brushing, before he resigns himself to his fate.

“I’d also rather have Steve do this,” Bucky tells him, carefully running the comb through Finn’s fur. “But he’s not here.”

Bucky has no idea where Steve is, in fact.

There’s nothing on the news about any impending world crisis or alien invasions, nothing big enough or dangerous enough that seems to demand the Avengers’ attention. There have been no press conferences, no emergency broadcasts, nothing. Just radio silence. Bucky knows that if he wasn’t used to having Steve around, he wouldn’t even know anything was happening.

“I hope he’s safe,” Bucky tells Finn, because he knows the cat won’t betray his secrets. “I hope he’s okay.”

 

**

 

Steve is not okay.

Bucky sees this when he steps inside the Loft, heart heavy with disappointment at the thought that this will be another day without knowing what’s happened to Steve. Only Steve isn’t missing. Steve isn’t off somewhere on a secret mission to save the world.

Steve is here, standing in the middle of the Loft with Finn cradled close to his chest.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Bucky blurts out before he can stop himself, rushing to Steve.

Steve is here, and he looks like absolute hell. The dark circles around his eyes are back, not helped by the big purpling bruise on his right cheek. There are a few scratches around his temple and the edge of his jaw, along with a nasty cut on his bottom lip. He looks like something ate him up and spat him out, and Bucky’s never been happier to see him.

Bucky stops himself short of tackling Steve into a hug. By the tense way Steve is holding himself up, Bucky knows it’s not only his face that’s hurt. The weighted stare Steve gives him, eyes almost blank and far away, only proves Bucky right.

“Sorry,” Steve says, and he really shouldn’t be apologizing right now. “Frank let me in.”

“It’s— You— I—” Bucky cuts himself off, taking a deep  breath and letting it out slowly. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know where to even start describing how relieved he is. Steve is here, in one piece, although it seems like the progress they’ve made since Steve started coming here has all been blown to bits.

Finn picks that moment to headbutt Steve’s chin, rubbing his face all over Steve’s neck and cheek. Steve looks startled for a second, but then his eyes close, tense posture relaxing as he lets Finn nuzzle his face.

A knot forms on Bucky’s throat, emotion making his eyes sting a bit. He takes a deep breath to center himself, and then tries for a steady tone when he says, “Someone missed you.”

Steve opens his eyes, some of the blankest dissipating from his gaze, and scratches Finn under his chin. “Yeah, I missed him.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

Steve snorts. “I guess he did miss me, huh?”

Bucky ignores when Finn starts to purr. He also pushes past the knot forming in his throat, his sweaty hands, the rapid beat of his heart. “I wasn’t talking about the cat either.”

Steve’s head snaps back to him, but he’s careful not to dislodge or scare Finn. He stares at Bucky for a few seconds, surprise and weariness flashing across his face. Bucky lets all the worry and fear he’s been living with these past few weeks to show through, as well as the relief he’s experiencing now that Steve is here, in front of him, safe.

“Bucky,” Steve murmurs, shoulders slumping like he doesn’t really know what to say.

Bucky doesn’t need anything more than that. He reaches out, slow and careful in case Steve wants to pull away. When Steve shifts forward instead of leaning away from his touch, Bucky rests his hand on the curve of Steve’s shoulder, fingers wrapping around the soft shirt Steve’s wearing.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Bucky tells him, voice shaky with relief. “I’m glad you came back.”

Steve gives him a sharp nod, throat working as he swallows. “I wouldn’t have left if I didn’t need to,” he says, like he’s sharing a secret. “I like it here. I like the cats. I like…” Steve trails off, a faint blush spreading from the bridge of his nose and to his cheeks.

“Me too,” Bucky whispers, squeezing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve opens his mouth, but whatever words he might say get swallowed up by Finn meowing loudly and trying to climb up Steve’s shoulder. He digs his little claws into the back of Bucky’s hand, who hisses and is forced to let go.

“Finn, no,” Steve reprimands him, all furrowed browns and displeased tone. “We don’t treat Bucky that way. We like him.”

Butterflies flutter around Bucky’s stomach. He smiles despite himself, soft and charmed. A smile that only widens when Steve seems to realize what he’s said, the blush across his nose and cheeks now covering the back of his neck.

“C’mon,” Bucky says, deciding to let Steve’s words settle between them. “We have kittens to brush.”

Steve ducks his head, but Bucky can still see the minute curve of his lips.

They spend the rest of the afternoon with the cats; playing, brushing, and helping them socialize. Bucky doesn’t ask Steve about where he’s been and why he’s hurt, but he does talk to him about other things. They get to know each other a little bit better, from their favorite movies to favorite food and good books they’ve been reading. It’s surprisingly easy to keep a conversation going. Even the occasional silence doesn’t seem awkward.

Bucky notices that Steve relaxes more and more as the minutes tick by. The tension slips completely from his body sometime between their discussion about what Disney movie made them cry the most and the end of the brushing session. It’s like seeing a new Steve, in a way. He seems younger, more grounded, like he hasn’t been carrying the world on his shoulders.

It’s a good look on him, and Bucky hopes to see more of it soon.

 

**

 

Bucky jumps a little when his alarm goes off, wincing when that makes Furiosa scramble away from him. “Sorry,” he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket and checking the time. “Oh. Volunteer hours are done.”

Steve doesn’t stop playing with Finn and Marshmallow, one of their Persian kittens, but his shoulders slump. “I guess I should get going.”

Steve says goodbye to all of the cats, paying special attention to Finn and kissing the top of his head once before he gets up. Bucky tries not to be jealous.

“He’ll be here next week,” Bucky tells Steve. “Waiting for you.”

Steve bumps their shoulders together as they make their way to the reception area, the warmth of his body lingering against Bucky’s skin. “I look forward to it. Volunteering is one of the highlights of my week.”

Bucky doesn’t know whether to feel touched or sorry, so he picks the former. “One of?”

Steve gives him a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was kind of hoping grabbing coffee with you could be another one.”

“You—” Bucky gapes, his surprise turning to delight and bursting out of him through shy laughter. “That’s was smooth.”

Steve looks pleased with himself, although his eyes betray uncertainty. “And did it work?”

Bucky nods, a few strands of hair falling from his messy ponytail and tickling his cheek. “I’d love to have coffee with you.”

Steve smiles again, shy and happy and a little like he can’t quite believe what’s happening. Bucky feels much the same way, heart doing flips inside his chest.

They exchange numbers and Bucky tries his best to ignore the way his fingers shake when Steve hands him his phone. He sends himself a text, just a smiley cat emoji, and saves his number under Buckitty, which earns himself a laugh from Steve when he sees it.

“I’ll text you,” Steve promises, face soft.

“I’ll see you Saturday,” Bucky says and, before he can talk himself out of it, he darts forward to give Steve a quick hug, his arms coming around Steve’s broad shoulders.

Steve tenses at the first touch of their bodies brushing together, but before Bucky can pull away and apologize he melts into the hug. His arms snake around Bucky’s waist and give him a squeeze, his nose tucked into the crook of Bucky’s neck and shoulder.

“It’s a date,” Steve murmurs against Bucky’s skin, squeezing him again before he lets go.

Bucky watches him leave, soul singing.

He can’t wait for Saturday.

 

**

 

Bucky smiles when he spots Steve sitting in one of the corner tables at Cool Beans, raising his hand in a little wave. He watches as the corners of Steve’s lip pull into a smile, eyes shadowed by the brim of his cap which is pulled low over his head. Bucky is used to Steve’s usual disguise of a cap and sunglasses, so the look doesn’t bother him, especially as he takes in the dark henley Steve’s wearing, pulled tight across his shoulders.

Bucky licks his lips. And then he forces himself to think of all the coughed up hairballs he’s had to clean this past week, lest he make a total fool of himself in front of Steve.

“Hi,” Bucky says when he gets near, not even trying to cover up how breathless he sounds.

Steve stands up to meet him, mouth soft when he says, “Hey,” and pulls Bucky into a hug.

Bucky sighs and wraps his arms around Steve’s tiny waist, reveling in the warmth of his body. “Did you order yet?”

“No.” Steve squeezes him once before letting him go. “Thought I’d wait for you.”

“Thanks.”

They walk up together to the counter and place their orders, having a minor argument about who’s going to pay the bill. Steve insists he should do it, since he’s the one who asked Bucky out.

“Next time is on me, then,” Bucky lets Steve know, both of them making their way back to their seats. “But maybe we can go watch a movie instead.”

Steve grins at him. “That sounds like a plan.”

“Thanks for inviting me today.” Bucky takes a sip of his coffee and hums as the warm liquid rushes through him. “It’s nice seeing you not surrounded by cats.”

It’s also nice seeing him relaxed and, dare Bucky say, happy. Steve’s eyes are clearer than Bucky’s ever seen them, crinkled at the corners in amusement, and there’s isn’t a hint of tension anywhere in his body. It follows the progress Bucky’s seen from Steve since he started visiting the cats, but it’s good to have confirmation that the work helps Steve outside the Loft too.

“But the cats are part of my charm,” Steve says, all-American charm and aw-shucks attitude.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Of course they are.”

“They got you to go on a date with me,” Steve says, eye glinting.

Bucky bites down on his bottom lip, stomach flipping at the way Steve’s eyes glance down at his mouth to follow the movement. “That wasn’t the cats,” he admits, and ignores the way his cheeks heat.

Steve ducks his head and smiles, a rose tinge to his cheeks that matches Bucky’s own. “I didn’t really expect…” he trails off, gesturing between them.

“This?” Bucky offers with a chuckle. “I think what most people expect when they volunteer at a shelter is to end up bringing one of the animals home.”

“There’s still time for that yet,” Steve says, the soft expression on his face transforming into something more serious. “There’s… a reason. Why I started volunteering.”

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” Bucky assures him. He has his suspicions about why Steve started coming by in the first place.

“I know, but I want to.” Steve takes a deep breath, jaw clenched like he’s fighting with himself about something. Bucky reaches out and grabs Steve’s hands. The touch startles Steve a little, but he’s quick to link their fingers together and Bucky’s hand a squeeze. “Thanks,” Steve says with a sigh. “One of my friends suggested it, the volunteer work, to help with my PTSD.”

Bucky pulls in a harsh breath and tightens his hold on Steve’s hand. He figured it would be something like that, after everything Steve’s been through. Frank himself followed that path after he was discharged which then lead him to run the shelter.

“It grounds you,” Bucky says, remembering one of their conversations.

“It’s good to focus on something concrete, to see that I’m helping.” Steve nods and gives Bucky a sweet, albeit sad, smile. “And the cats don’t really care it’s Captain America brushing them.”

“Cats already know they’re way better than us, that’s why they’re not impressed,” Bucky teases, enjoying the way it startles a laugh out of Steve.

“True.” Steve nods, and then raises an eyebrow at Bucky. “You don’t seem too impressed either.”

Bucky presses his lips together, mind going back to their first meeting. “Maybe I am, just a little bit.”

“A little?”

“It’s not everyone who wins over Finn’s heart,” Bucky answers. “That’s gotta count for something.”

Steve nose scrunches up when he laughs. “He’s great. Sometimes I wish I could take him home with me.”

Bucky shrugs, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of Steve’s hand. “There’s still time.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, giving Bucky a look he can’t decipher. “There’s still time.”

Bucky smiles at Steve and knocks their feet together under the table. Steve gives him a light kick back before he captures Bucky’s foot between his legs and traps him. Not that Bucky tries to pull away.

They spent the next couple of hours like that, talking and laughing and having fun. Bucky trades coffee for hot chocolate after his second cup, knowing better than to fill up on caffeine, and only half complains when Steve steals a sip from his mug.

“Ah!” Steve gasps as he puts the mug down, grinning up at Bucky with hot chocolate staining his upper lip.

“Idiot,” Bucky says with fondness, and then gestures to his face. “You’ve got something…”

Steve crosses his eyes and tries to look down at himself, tongue poking out to lick at his lips. He gets only half the chocolate, a little bit still clinging to the corner of his mouth. “Did I get it?” he asks, tilting his face up to Bucky.

Bucky swallows hard and shakes his head. “Let me…” he trails off, leaning forward and into Steve’s space.

Steve’s breath hitches when Bucky places a hand on his jaw, thumb coming to rest just under Steve’s bottom lip. Bucky stares at Steve, giving him time to pull away, but when Steve presses into his touch all Bucky can do is close the distance between them.

The kiss is soft and slow, tasting of hot chocolate and coffee, and it steals the breath from Bucky’s lungs. It’s a sweet thing, to have Steve’s lips under his, pliant and warm, kissing him back like they’ve got all the time in world. When Bucky pulls back, he’s doesn’t go far; he rests their foreheads together, smiling when Steve leans in and steals another quick kiss.

“Thanks,” Steve whispers, breath ghosting over Bucky’s lips.

“Anytime, Steve,” Bucky promises, dropping a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth before leaning back into his seat. “Anytime.”

Steve’s eyes glint at the spoken promise. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Bucky grins, giddy and utterly charmed. “I look forward to it.”

 

* * *

 

Bucky closes the door behind him and drops his bag on the floor, rolling his stiff shoulders and tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. It’s been a long day at the shelter, but a rewarding one: Furiosa found her forever home and Luke announcing his and Claire’s engagement. It was a long time coming for both of those things, and Bucky can’t help but smile as he remembers Furiosa’s happy purrs and the smile of Luke and Claire’s faces.

Still, Bucky’s glad to be home.

Especially when home smells as delicious as it does now, Bucky thinks as he takes a deep breath. He follows the rich scent of spices and cooked food to the kitchen, listening to the faint sounds of music and banging of pots. He tries not to make any sounds as he walks, as not to disturb anyone, and then stops to lean against the door frame to watch the scene in front of him.

Steve is humming under his breath, hips moving to the tune of the song that’s coming from the little speaker setup he arranged on top of the counter. His muscles ripple under his loose white undershirt while he cooks, grey sweatpants hanging dangerously low and slipping lower every time he does a shimmy to reach for a different spice. From a secure spot on Steve’s shoulder, Finn oversees everything.

Bucky bites down on his lip not to coo, heart filling with love.

It’s been three months since they’ve moved in together, almost seven months to the date they grabbed that first cup of coffee at Cool Beans. Finn’s been with Steve for almost that long; after coming back from another mission looking like death warmed over, Steve showed up at the Loft, cradled Finn against his chest, and didn’t let go. Bucky helped him with the adoption papers that afternoon, smile so wide his cheeks hurt.

Steve still has his bad days, but now they’re few and far between.

Finn glances over his shoulder, meowing loudly when he spots Bucky. He doesn’t move, though. Steve is still his favorite, and it takes more than Bucky getting home after a long day for Finn to abandon Steve.

“You’re home,” Steve says when he twirls around, socked feet slipping on the floor. He stares at Bucky, face soft and eyes liquid, an easy smile curling on his lips.

Bucky smiles back and walks up to him, hands settling on Steve’s hips. His fingers sneak under Steve’s shirt, finding the warm skin underneath, holding on. “Hi,” he breathes out, rubbing their noses together.

“Hi.” Steve tilts his head down for a kiss, which Bucky is happy to give him. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Watcha makin’?” Bucky asks, mouthing at Steve’s jaw, unwilling to let go just yet.

“Chicken curry.”

“Sounds like it tastes good.”

Finn meows, as if agreeing, and then puts his paw on top of Bucky’s and and pushes him away. Bucky goes, but aims both him and Steve with a pout.

“Don’t be rude, Finn,” Steve says between laughs. “We like Bucky, remember?”

“That cat only likes you,” Bucky grumbles, all mock-offense.

Steve grins at him and kisses his pout away. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doubtful.” Bucky side-eyes Finn who promptly ignores him in favor of trying to eat Steve’s hair.

“Go wash up.” Steve places a kiss to the tip of Bucky’s nose. “Then you can help me cut veggies.”

Bucky goes, and soon enough he’s right beside Steve, hip-checking him while they cook. The domesticity of it makes Bucky’s heart hurt in the best of ways. They still have their tough times, a few bumps in the road, but they also have this: laughter, love, intimacy.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers quietly to Steve after they’ve eaten, their empty plates sitting on their coffee table, their legs tangled as they cuddle on the couch.

Steve’s smile is slow, but it takes Bucky’s breath away. “I love you too,” he says, lips finding Bucky’s in a sweet and slow kiss.

From between their feet, Finn meows. 

**Author's Note:**

> based on the prompt: _I work at the animal shelter and you always come in to pet the cats when you’re sad._
> 
> on [tumblr](http://hawkguyz.tumblr.com/post/171421835606/sad-cat) :D


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